


What's in a Smile?

by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Claiming, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Marking, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Smile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles/pseuds/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bane sees John smiling at an unknown woman, he feels the need to remind John just who he belongs to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **You can check out[here](http://onewhositswiththeturtles.tumblr.com/) to follow my Tumblr for info about me and story updates.**
> 
> A/N: Small smutty Bane/Blake story to tide my lovely readers over until I find the time to write and post the “Behind the Mask” sequel. I thought I’d try something different this time and write from Bane’s perspective. I also felt like playing with some possessive aspects of the relationship. For a bit of context since this is a stand-alone and not at all associated with BtM, I was imagining a situation where Gotham is still under siege and Bane still has his mask. John and Bane have already been together a few times, but they haven’t really put a label on their relationship, leaving things a little uncertain and up in the air. Anyway, enough analysis and on with the sex (so apparently my way of putting in backstory within a PWP is putting it in an A/N, I’m so sorry, I’m a terrible person haha)

Leaning against the rough brick wall just inside the mouth of the alley, half concealed by shadow, Bane watched John. Snow dusted the concrete, the street was abandoned. Except for John. And her. Bane didn’t know who she was, but it was clear John knew, and that she knew the detective. Bane had picked this vantage point to wait for John on his routine trek around the ravaged city; it might be time to remind the rookie cop that a routine was dangerous in times of war but he thought that passed beyond his job repertoire.

 

John was an excellent fuck, yes, but he was a grown man. He should be able to take care of himself.

 

The routine had been interrupted today though by this blond creature that had given a screech at the sight of John and promptly rushed forward to wind her arms around him. Bane had watched curiously as John’s face broke out into a smile that Bane hadn’t seen before. He thought a smile that wide must hurt one’s face to maintain and wondered who this woman was to make the detective so happy at the sight of her.

 

Although it would be foolish to think John would tell Bane anything during their few rushed rendezvous, Bane didn’t think this could be someone of physical interest to John. The detective took Bane’s cock just too perfectly. Of course, John had never really had much choice in their encounters; perhaps he had just decided that he was most likely to survive if he didn’t fight Bane off.

 

Oddly, this thought did not please Bane.

 

As he continued to watch John talk to the blond woman, too far away to hear their conversation, Bane felt his teeth grinding together. He tugged his coat open slightly, feeling constricted and hot under the collar. Making John happy wasn’t Bane’s job, or his motive. But he couldn’t help feeling like he had lost something, and the thought left him agitated and impatient. Each time John grinned or laughed – Bane hadn’t even known the detective’s eyes crinkled like that – he wished the blond woman would just _go_.

 

Finally he saw her fling her arms around John one more time, the rookie’s arms winding around her waist in return for a tight, familiar hug, and then walk away. Bane felt a growl building at the back of his throat when John remained standing where he was for another few moments, watching the woman leave until she was out of sight around a corner. Only then did Bane take a few steps back, further wrapping himself in shadow as John returned to his routine and step into the alley.

 

John jumped and tensed as soon as he caught sight of Bane, cursing loudly and sending him a dark glare. “What are you doing here?” John snapped at him, obviously unhappy at being so startled.

 

Bane noted that John’s smile was already gone and he realized that this truly displeased him. “Who was she?” Bane asked bluntly, stepping closer and crowding John up against the wall.

 

They were surrounded by shadows but there was enough light from the narrow sliver of sky above for Bane to watch the colour drain from John’s face. “Leave her alone,” John demanded, strong but nervous. Bane always enjoyed watching John’s determination to act strong despite his fear; he found it rather admirable. “She’s of no interest to you.”

 

“I will be the judge of that,” Bane rumbled, pinning John more fully against brick. Through his coat and armour he could feel John shiver. “Who is she?” he asked again.

 

John’s lips curled down into a silent snarl, warning Bane away. Bane finally vocalized his growl as a response. John tensed and continued to glare but finally offered an answer. “She lived at the orphanage for girls a few blocks away from my orphanage,” John explained. “She was one of my closest friends. She’s like a sister.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Bane pressed. Decided that he wasn’t close enough, Bane hooked his hands under John’s thighs and hoisted him up, the detective’s back skidding against the wall. Bane leaned into him until he could feel John’s chest attempt to push against Bane’s own each time he took a breath. “You seemed very pleased to see her.”

 

John raised a confused eyebrow even as he wrapped his arms around Bane’s shoulders, not fighting their new position. Bane wondered suddenly if he had said too much, John returning to his annoying habit of scanning his eyes over Bane’s face like every secret lay there. Bane allowed him to continue, though he didn’t have a good reason why. “I am quite sure,” John scoffed. “Or were you not paying attention when I let you fuck me the last three times?”

 

“ _Let me_ ,” Bane repeated, a rough bark of laughter crackling through his mask. John’s courage, however foolhardy, never ceased to amuse and impress him. “Aren’t you cheeky?” Bane didn’t bother fighting down the smile that curled his lips upward after his short laugh; he knew his mask would cover it and maintain his image. What confused him was when he saw John’s eyes widen and then crinkle familiarly, lips turning up into a smile that wasn’t quite as wide as the blond woman had received, but was still strong and genuine. “What are you smiling at?” Bane huffed, curious and annoyed that he didn’t understand.

 

John’s smile wavered with clear uncertainty and Bane felt his own smile waver as an echo. When John’s smile returned, Bane’s did not, but a rather maddening fluttering sensation had started somewhere in his chest. “You were smiling...” John trailed off. His eyes narrowed, trying to read Bane again. “Weren’t you?”

 

“I was doing no such thing,” Bane refuted. John was still smiling though and Bane didn’t like the knowing look in those soft brown eyes. Still curious though, he lifted his fingers to briefly trace the upward curl of John’s lips and the lines accenting his eyes, taking note of the details of John’s smile. Bane had caused that smile, even though it had been an accident. He couldn’t remember the last time he had caused a genuine smile.

 

“So why all the questions about my friend?” John probed.

 

The teasing lilt of his voice was obvious and Bane dropped his hand away from the detective’s face. Bane knew the reason: jealousy. He was familiar with the emotion even though he found it rather peculiar to be feeling it about this rookie cop. But he had no intention of giving John the answer he sought, of admitting such weakness for a man who shouldn’t even be on Bane’s radar. Instead, he dropped his hands to John’s belt and began undoing the clasp deftly, this being a routine he didn’t mind repeating. “It doesn’t matter. She is of no interest to me.”

 

John laughed softly and tightened his hold around Bane’s neck. Bane felt his fingers fumble for a moment at the sound and stole another glance upward to take in that smile and crinkled eyes. The smile was wider this time with both relief and amusement and Bane took careful note of another discovery now that he was closer; John also had dimples. This time Bane did force his tiny smile down, unwilling to risk John noticing again. He was a little concerned at how difficult it was to keep the smile down.

 

The detective was the one who helped, refocusing Bane’s attention by rolling his hips forward. Taking the hint, Bane pinned John in place with his chest before reaching down to pull off his shoes and socks, promptly followed by his pants and underwear. He leaned a little closer when he felt John shivering from the cold, blocking most of the wind sweeping down the alley with his body.

 

Bane didn’t need to grip John’s legs to make the detective wind them around Bane’s waist, but he did anyway. One hand curled along the underside of John’s thigh while Bane presented the fingers of his other hand to John. “Suck.”

 

John grimaced as he considered the digits. “Would it kill you to bring lube?”

 

“It wouldn’t kill me,” Bane said, as close to teasing as he would get.

 

The detective rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you then?”

 

“Why would I?” Bane kept his fingers in front of John, hovering only a few inches over his lips. He knew he could push his fingers forward and part those lips; John would take it. But he waited.

 

“Because it hurts when you don’t,” John said brusquely. “Spit isn’t enough.”

 

Bane hesitated and drew his fingers back a few inches. “You never said anything.”

 

“Would you have stopped?” John asked seriously. Bane remained pointedly silent, refusing to answer. John sighed and began reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small packet of lube a moment later. “I brought some this time.” Bane watched John bite his bottom lip nervously before looking up to meet his steady gaze. “Will you use it?”

 

Bane could knock the packet to the ground and force his fingers into John’s mouth; he would take it all. But the idea wasn’t terribly appealing. By using the lube he could make this more pleasurable for John, and although John’s pleasure was not Bane’s first priority, it would build his own pleasure hearing the man moan for him. So without another word, Bane plucked the packet from John’s fingers and tore it open, letting some of the slippery liquid coat his fingers.

 

John remained silent as Bane handed back the packet for the rookie to hold, quickly returning one hand to John’s thigh to hoist him up while pressing two of his fingers against John’s puckered hole. He pushed in slowly, knowing he should start with one finger but not stopping when John didn’t complain. Bane felt John’s nails scrabble across the leather of his jacket, searching for purchase as he clenched and then forced himself to relax, allowing Bane to slide in to his second knuckle.

 

He always enjoyed the sounds John made while he worked him open, little choked-off gasps John tried to stifle. Bane wondered idly if John was trying to contain his noises of pleasure from Bane, or from the judging world beyond their alley; he would have to take the detective in a more private location next time to see if there was any difference. He would not be opposed to John voicing his pleasure louder and twisted his fingers before spreading them, stretching John’s hole wide open in preparation.

 

John whined and panted as he fell forward, arms around Bane’s wide shoulders and face tucked against Bane’s neck. It was far too intimate but Bane didn’t remove him because it meant John was gasping and whining directly in his ear, his whole body trembling as Bane worked in a third finger and began fucking John on his hand. Bane forced himself to remain focused and not turn his face, instead wringing out exquisite noises from the detective until Bane was sure the man was ready.

 

He withdrew his fingers and placed the heel of his hand against John’s shoulder, flattening him back against the wall. John’s skin was flushed and his pupils were blown wide, the rookie giving Bane a bit of a dazed look. Their eyes remained locked as Bane quickly undid his own pants and fished his swollen cock out, stroking himself a few times at the image the detective presented. “Tell me you want it,” Bane commanded as he took the lube back and coated his hand with what was left. “ _John_ ,” he growled when the rookie remained silent.

 

John jumped slightly and canted his hips forward, licking his lips as he watched Bane slick up his cock with lube. “I want it,” John whispered.

 

“Louder,” Bane said, lining the head of his cock up with John’s stretched hole but not pressing in.

 

He groaned when he felt John trying to arch down and take Bane’s cock in greedily. “I want it,” John said again, loud enough that if anyone had been walking along the sidewalk they would have heard.

 

“Good,” Bane hummed and then pushed the head of his cock past John’s tight ring of muscles. Once he was lined up and inside, Bane moved both hands to holding John’s ass, squeezing with enough strength to leave bruises for the next few days.

 

Slow and soft was not how they did this so as soon as Bane was sure of his angle he thrust up while pushing John down hard, burying himself all the way inside John’s tight heat. The detective gasped loudly and arched back against the wall, effectively pushing his ass down further until Bane’s balls and the teeth of his zipper grazed against his ass. Bane waited a few patient seconds to let John adjust and then began a ruthless rhythm.

 

He pinned John fully against the wall, bruising the rookie and keeping him immobile so that John could only take what Bane gave. He thrust up hard and fast, thick cock stretching John further until he was loose and welcoming for him. Bane loved feeling John clench around his length, forcing Bane to drag out slowly and force his way back in each time. He also loved the way John’s fingers skidded across his coat desperately, searching for more, and how wanton he became as soon as Bane found the right angle to hit his prostate.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” John hissed, mouth falling open as Bane found that bundle of nerves and angled his hips, thrusting up again. As Bane continued to hammer John’s prostate, cock stuffing his hole full again and again, John began offering little hiccupped gasps, eyes clenched closed as he rose and fell on Bane’s cock. “ _Bane_ ,” John whined and that was when Bane knew to move one hand to the cop’s dripping length.

 

John called Bane’s name whenever he could find the breath as he began trying to rock up and down, eager for Bane’s cock to spear him up again but also seeking out Bane’s tight grip. The words weren’t loud enough to please Bane but he let it slide, his own thoughts getting a bit muddled as he repeatedly buried himself inside his detective. His fingers were slick and sticky with precome as he stroked John in time with his thrusts, feeling the man’s muscles tighten warningly around him.

 

As always, John came in a rush without any vocal warning. His sticky seed splattered across his own coat and slid over Bane’s fingers as Bane fucked him through it. He felt John’s body jerk each time Bane hit his prostate again, another small glob of come trickling out of his tip. When John was finally finished, Bane allowed him to fall forward as he always did, arms holding Bane close and face returning to Bane’s neck.

 

As soon as John had found his place, Bane began his movements anew. He was close, his balls tightening as he shoved himself into John’s loose, welcoming body again and again. His breathing was harsh as it rushed through the mask, though John never seemed to mind. The rookie also didn’t complain when Bane returned his come-coated hand to gripping John’s ass, finding his steady hold again. With John properly pinned against the wall, Bane finally leaned into it and thrust up with all his desperate strength, fucking the air and weak little noises out of John’s lungs.

 

He couldn’t last long and with a final groan he slammed his hips up and froze, grinding weakly into John as he spilt his seed deep inside the detective. John moaned loudly in Bane’s ear and held him tighter, taking each stream of hot, sticky come inside his body. When Bane was finally spent he collapsed forward, holding John close to his chest as he let his body shake, momentarily weakened. He knew he shouldn’t be comfortable being so vulnerable in front of the detective, but he was.

 

Slowly his cock softened and finally Bane pulled out. He knew John must be freezing with his lower half exposed to the cold air but he didn’t try to shift out of Bane’s grasp. Instead he just wrapped his arms and legs around Bane a little tighter, keeping him close. Bane held him aloft, never knowing what to say now as he felt John’s smile against his neck. All he could do was hold John until the man finally began shivering fully and let him down on shaky legs to pull his clothes back on.

 

Bane tucked himself back into his pants silently, watching John’s naked skin until it was finally covered by clothing again. He always felt like he should say something at this moment, both of them still close before parting ways and pretending they didn’t have a guilty pleasure in the other’s body. But all he could think to say was from his thoughts earlier. “You should change your route home,” he said. “Routines aren’t safe in times of war.”

 

John sent him a confused look. Bane wondered if it was because of his suggestion or his choice in topic after fucking John senseless. “How else would you find me?” John eventually asked, standing straight when he was done tying his shoes.

 

Bane’s eyebrows furrowed. “I think you are overestimating your agency in all this.”

 

“I’m quite sure I’m not,” John retaliated, crossing his arms.

 

“Then why do you ‘let me’ do this to you?” Bane repeated John’s words from earlier mockingly.

 

John’s confidence was returning now that his body was calming. “Because I want this,” he stated strongly.

 

Bane swallowed thickly, refusing to let himself dwell on any implications in that statement. “Don’t you hate yourself for being with a monster?” he used the words he had heard attached to him many times before, not even considering by now if the label was true.  

 

“I should,” John admitted. “But I think there’s more to you. Nothing is ever so black and white or simple.”

 

“You are a fool,” Bane accused roughly.

 

“So are you,” John shot back, though he didn’t sound particularly angry.

 

“What makes you think so?”

 

“You’ve let yourself care about a cop trying to undo you,” John declared boldly.

 

Now Bane took a warning step forward. “You are even more of a fool if you think I care.”

 

“Then why do you follow me home after each of these encounters?” John raised an expectant eyebrow.

 

“I don’t,” Bane argued slowly.

 

“You do,” John responded immediately. They stood in silence for a long moment and then John huffed. “I don’t mind that you follow me even though I’d be fine on my own.” Bane would disagree but that this point he had no interest in admitting anything. “I don’t know who you’re trying to fool, Bane. Me, or yourself,” John ran his fingers through his own hair in agitation. When Bane remained silent, John sighed tiredly. “I’m going home.”

 

Bane let John brush past him before finally saying, “Changing your routine would be safer.” He refused to label his motivations.

 

John paused and looked back at Bane over his shoulder. “Will you find me anyway?”

 

“Yes,” Bane said easily.

 

John smiled lightly, half turning to meet Bane’s gaze. “It’s reassuring to know you don’t see yourself as a danger to me, despite calling yourself a monster. You don’t even consider your own presence as something I should avoid to be safe.”

 

“Do you have a point, Detective Blake?” Bane barked, thoroughly displeased now.

 

John’s smile softened. “It’s just reassuring to be proven right,” he said cryptically, smiling at Bane for another few seconds before turning and walking out of the alley.

 

Bane watched him go, outwardly calm but frustrated and confused on the inside. John’s words kept echoing in his head, nagging at him. _I don’t know who you’re trying to fool_. Refusing to consider the words further at that moment, Bane waited a few more seconds before walking to the alley mouth. He peered out and saw John a few blocks down the street, maintaining an even, unhurried pace. Bane slid out onto the sidewalk and followed him.

 

He was ready to step away into another alley if John ever turned, refusing to be caught. But John never turned to glance over his shoulder, not even when he slipped the key into the main door of his apartment building. However, Bane did notice that John kept the door from closing all the way as he stepped inside and disappeared up the stairs.

 

It was an open invitation; one Bane considered for a few long, drawn out seconds. What would he be admitting if he walked through that door, found John’s apartment number on a list and went to his flat? What would he be missing if he turned and walked away? Bane walked across the street and paused in front of the door, hand on the cold metal of the handle. Who was Bane trying to fool, John or himself?

 

Taking a deep breath, Bane stepped into the apartment building and pushed the door securely closed behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Against my better judgement I decided to write a sequel to "What's in a Smile?" because a) I love this pairing, b) you all wanted more, and c) I'll just get back to the other fics I was supposed to write tomorrow :P
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Bane found the number for John’s flat easily and climbed the stairs slowly, in no particular rush. He had made his decision but that didn’t mean he was desperate for it. John had let him in. John would be waiting. Let the cop wait and wonder what Bane’s choice had been, think about his own choices and the results he would soon experience. Bane wondered if John would second-guess his decision and withdraw his invitation, but there was no way of knowing until he knocked.

 

As he climbed the stairs and strode down the apartment hallway, everything looking a little worse for wear but still relatively maintained, Bane’s thoughts raced. More than once he had caught his thoughts drifting toward the detective, trying to understand him and Bane’s own feelings about him. John had first caught Bane’s attention when Bane rushed by him as he left the bank; a beautiful man, he had thought, but one of many. Then again he had seen the detective taking down two of Bane’s men on the street and Bane’s interest rose; John was a beautiful stallion in need of some breaking.

 

He had shouldered John further into the alley system and out of view and then taken him, demanding and rough. What perturbed Bane the most was the fact that John never lost his fight but he let Bane in, dug his nails into leather and pulled him closer, gasped openly. It was meant to be forceful, the man was to be broken. But at the end of it John had walked away – limping slightly but head held high – with as much fight as before, and Bane had been left to zip up and temporarily admit defeat.

 

The second time he had made sure to push John against the wall harder, thrust up possessively. He wanted John to take it without pleasure and be his. But even though John had whined with discomfort at Bane’s speed and rushed rhythm, he moaned louder when Bane found his prostate and arched violently as he came. The third time John tucked his face against Bane’s neck for the first time, already taking everything Bane was giving, and whispered, “ _More_.”

 

By their fourth time Bane had decided that he rather preferred John as he was, spitfire cop with a mind of his own. Bane had wanted to break him, but after feeling John let him in, come around him, and _still_ walk away with his confidence and identity in tact Bane finally realized how tired he was of mindless soldiers following his every word. He wanted someone to fight him on what they believed in and give in only when they chose to do so.

 

He had had a lot of time to consider this, and the detective in general as he moved about the city. Talia’s plans took time but much had already been set in motion; there was nothing to do now but wait and watch and occasionally prod people into action. He didn’t know John well enough to know the man’s rationale; he could only speculate. Though based on the information he had collected about the detective, Bane assumed that maybe John wasn’t as straight-laced as he liked to act.

 

John may follow the rules and toe the lines, but he had lost both parents and grown up with a hard life, seen many injustices in his city. And although that seemed to have put John on the straight and narrow path, he seemed too fiery to be contained by boundaries for long. John struck him as the man to get frustrated by the rules of society and eventually seek his own methods; too righteous to tolerate corruption. How Bane fit into that he could only guess. Perhaps the detective had a secret fetish for rough sex or maybe he just had a rebellious streak for who he brought into his figurative bed.

 

Regardless, when Bane found the right door he knocked without hesitation. He would leave the final choice up to John. If John wanted him – and it seemed apparent that he did – Bane would not miss the opportunity. He enjoyed John’s body and he had to admit, if only to himself, that John’s smile was still imprinted on his mind. That thought quickly fell away though when John opened the door in nothing but a towel. Bane stared and John stared back. Then John smirked – looking a little self conscious but still pleased with his decision. “Are you coming in?”

 

Bane blinked a few more times, eyes sliding over naked skin openly. “If you insist,” he finally said and stepped in, John backing up to give him space. As Bane turned to close the door he caught John’s smirk turn into a smile before he disappeared around a corner. Once the door was closed Bane took a few curious steps into the apartment, surveying the area. He was standing in a small living area with a kitchen attached, a tiny table built for two shoved in a corner with one side littered with books. He could see a small balcony beyond the living area, a door leading away to what he assumed was the bedroom, and on his immediate left was another open door with steam pouring out of it.

 

Truthfully, Bane felt out of place. Both at being in an apartment like a normal city citizen, and at being _trusted_ within said dwelling. This was John’s home, where he ate and relaxed and slept at night, and he was trusting Bane to behave. More than that, he was trusting Bane with no weapons or armour to protect him, back turned and visible to Bane as he adjusted the temperature of the shower. John wasn’t stupid, of this Bane was sure. So he knew this must be a test to see just what Bane’s intentions were. And Bane knew that he could bend John over and take him... he could even _hurt_ John. But he didn’t want to.

 

John looked back at him over his shoulder, considering Bane. Never before had someone so boldly sized Bane up before, and although it made Bane feel a little out of sorts, it also felt like an interesting challenge. He purposefully pushed the bathroom door further open, his body filling the frame. Apparently passing some silent test by not murdering John with his back turned out of the public eye, Bane was again trusted as John turned back to the shower to test the water temperature. “You made such a mess of me that I’m going to shower. You should join me.”

 

“I can’t with the mask,” Bane hedged, deciding immediately that getting in the shower with John would be far too intimate for him to allow.

 

John sent him a displeased look. “Bullshit,” the detective rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that your mask, the one you wear _all_ the time, will get rusty with a little water? I’ve seen you out in the rain.” For a moment Bane could read John’s nerves, recognized his version of stalling. But then John purposefully tugged at his towel and let it flutter to the ground, leaving his whole backside exposed. Bane could already see shadows on his ass hinting at where Bane’s bruises would soon develop. “You can join me or leave, the choice is yours.”

 

As he watched John step into the shower, Bane felt his admiration for the rookie cop grow. Being a little defiant was one thing. Actively dragging Bane into a challenge was certainly another. And Bane decided that this was what he had come for, even if it wasn’t exactly how he had imagined this happening. If this was what John wanted as well then all the better; it meant he would moan louder.

 

For a few minutes Bane remained in the doorframe, leaning slightly as he watched John. The detective watched him pointedly in return for a little while before purposefully turning his back, the frosted glass of the shower hiding all the best details from Bane’s view. Bane watched the hot water soak John’s hair and curl the ends, the steam flush his skin red, and John’s hands slide over his shoulders and up his neck. Then Bane slowly peeled off his many layers of clothing. It took him a while but when John finally glanced back and saw that Bane was undressing, he smiled again.

 

Bane maintained his unhurried pace as his armour and clothing slowly piled up on the tiled floor, refusing to act desperate. But when he was finally undressed he felt no desire to draw things out any longer and immediately stepped into the shower, pulling the door closed behind him. The hot shower spray nearly stung as it cascaded across his shoulders and back, but it felt refreshing, cleansing. John was facing him, looking him over without shame. The red in his cheeks was not solely from the steam.

 

“Took you long enough,” John eventually said, voice a little uneven.

 

“Quiet,” Bane ordered simply, stepping forward to press John back against the tiled wall. John fell silent immediately, practiced in his movements as he wrapped his arms around Bane’s neck for added support. Bane waited for another interruption and smiled slightly behind his mask when John kept his lips sealed as instructed. “You have made your play and have gotten me here,” Bane conceded. “Now it is my turn.”

 

John moaned openly when Bane slid his hands down wet thighs and grabbed John’s ass, forcefully sliding him up the tile. John’s legs wound around Bane’s hips again but it felt different this time; skin against skin, water sliding between them, bodies visible for inspection and enjoyment. Bane traced his fingers down John’s stomach, reading the stories John’s scars were telling – some old and some fresh. John seemed curious to do the same, exploring Bane’s shoulders and chest where his fingers could reach.

 

“I bet you’re still stretched open for me,” Bane said, looking away only long enough to grab some lotion for his fingers.

 

John whined, nails digging into skin rather than leather now. Already John was panting in the heat of the shower, eyes darkening. “Same position again?” John tried to drawl, though the effect was lost somewhat when Bane slid a fist along John’s half hard cock, causing the flesh to jump at his touch.

 

“Greedy,” Bane accused, though he let John down. The detective gave a yelp when he nearly slipped but Bane got his grip again and spun John around, moulding his front flat against the wall. John gasped, whether at the change or the chill of the tile Bane didn’t know, though he knew for sure the second gasp was for him when Bane slid his fingers down the crack of John’s ass and jerked two of his fingers inside his hole immediately.

 

“Bane!” John called loudly, shoving his ass back and then grunting when Bane leaned more weight on him, pressing him back against the wall. Bane would have told him to be quiet again but he didn’t mind these noises, choosing to thrust his fingers in and out with sharp jabs without any other strict orders.

 

John was still open and slick, some of Bane’s come still inside him. But that just made it more satisfying when John clenched around him, purposefully squeezing him and tightening his hole for Bane’s enjoyment. It didn’t take long for Bane to grow hard watching his fingers slip in and out of that pert ass, his cock hanging heavy between his legs and twitching each time Bane brushed his fingers over John’s prostate and received another weak cry in return.

 

He slipped his fingers out and gripped himself tightly, stroking a few times. Then he pressed his body against John’s, chest to back as he slipped his cock between John’s ass cheeks and ground against him. He watched John’s fingers slide across tile, searching for something to grasp but finding nothing. Bane realized quite quickly that he could come just like this, his cock hugged by John’s slick cheeks. And what a sight that would offer, his come painting the curve of John’s back until it was washed away by the shower spray.

 

It was clear that John could finish like this as well if Bane just moved his hand around John’s hip to grip his length and stroke him through it, allow John to rock into him and ride his hand until he spilled across Bane’s fingers and the tile. But he was here in John’s shower, with an invitation, grinding against the detective with water and blood rushing in his ears. He wanted to feel their wet skin together and to hear John scream for him.

 

John groaned in protest when Bane paused his movements, but seemed content to let Bane lead. Pleased with this, Bane took hold of his own cock again and slowly slid it down John’s ass teasingly until he felt the small indent of his hole. Bane hovered for just a moment just to hear John grunt as he tried to shift his ass back. Then he situated both his hands on John’s hips and pushed him forward until he was flat against the tile again and shoved the head of his cock inside John.

 

He felt John tighten around him briefly, still needing a few seconds to readjust before Bane rested his weight against John’s back and let his cock sink all the way into John’s waiting body. They both moaned when Bane was fully sheathed, feeling free to make noise as the shower tried to drown them out. Bane remained where he was for a few moments, cock twitching as John clenched and loosened around him with his heartbeat.

 

Before he could start moving again, Bane heard a soft whisper over the hiss of the shower. “ _Harder_ ,” John begged. Bane grunted in confusion; he wasn’t even moving yet. In response, John’s hands reached back to rest on top of Bane’s, which were gripping John’s hips where his ass just began to swell. For a moment John laced their fingers together and held Bane so tightly his joints ached. Then he used his own grip to tighten Bane’s hold on John’s hips, dragging a wrecked moan out of his own mouth. “Harder,” John repeated. “I want your marks.”

 

“John,” Bane warned, well aware of his own strength.

 

John rutted back with a grunt, taking Bane’s cock an extra half inch deeper. “ _Bane_ ,” John said in a way that sounded as close to a plea as Bane would get. Bane experimentally tightened his grasp on John’s hips, fingers indenting skin. John whined and clenched tightly around Bane, causing him to rut forward again greedily. He clamped his hands tighter on John’s body until John’s skin turned white at each indent of contact. John gasped loudly and threw his head back, bumping Bane’s shoulder and then leaving his head resting there as he panted.

 

From this position Bane could look down the length of John’s body. He could watch John’s chest rise and fall hurriedly, his stomach clench and his cock twitch, and steam beading on his skin. Bane was momentarily overtaken by the urge to seal his lips on John’s skin and lap up each droplet of water. He would not remove his mask; the lines were blurred between them but Bane knew that was well past the line. However, his desire was almost overpowering.

 

To distract himself from his surprisingly strong disappointment at being unable to taste John’s skin, Bane slid his cock out and shoved it back in quickly, dragging a strangled cry from John’s lips. Keeping his hands on John’s hips he began fucking his detective at a rough pace, holding them stable as they moved. John kept his head resting on Bane’s shoulder, hair tickling Bane’s wet skin as John panted and moaned into the air beside Bane’s ear. The pale column of his neck was on display for Bane to eye as he silently wondered if he would ever get to mark that line of skin with his lips and teeth.

 

“Bane,” John whined, “I can’t last like this.”

 

Without a word in return Bane removed one hand from John’s hip to curl it around the long curve of John’s cock. He pulled John’s body tighter back against his own, John’s ass moulded to Bane’s groin as he continued to slam his cock in and out quickly, the head of his cock driving against John’s already-abused prostate. The new position also left a few inches between John and the tiled wall, leaving Bane as John’s main support as he stroked the rookie’s cock in time with each of his own demanding thrusts.

 

Anyone in a nearby apartment might think the encounter was forced judging by the sounds John was making. It was only Bane who could feel John’s hand covering the one Bane still had on his hip again, reminding him to mark John as his own. He was the only one trusted with John’s softer whimpers of pleasure, and his detective’s blissed-out expression as he blinked up at Bane with dark, dazed eyes.

 

While John kept one of his hands on top of Bane’s, his other reached back to cradle the back of Bane’s neck, tilting his face forward slightly to solidly meet John’s gaze. Bane felt a jolt inside him that had nothing to do with his cock buried in John’s ass and everything to do with his certainty that, if he didn’t have a mask, John would have kissed him. As it was, Bane was left staring at John’s glassy brown eyes until they finally flew closed, John’s lips parting with a shout of Bane’s name as he came.

 

John’s orgasm was violent, the detective arching forward and rocking back so frantically on Bane’s cock that he didn’t even need to thrust in or out. For a few moments he kept his hips steady, letting John ride his cock at the pace he needed while milking John’s cock of his seed. The first few streams of come splashed across the tile, sticky and clinging to the wall. The next few spurts were weaker and Bane could feel John’s hot mess across his fingers, far hotter than the shower’s spray.

 

Bane only got a few more frantic shoves of his own hips in, forcing his cock past John’s tight ring of muscles that had clenched as he worked through his orgasm. He hit John’s prostate a few more times, causing John to whimper and tense against him before finally collapsing back against him, a boneless heap. Bane kept him safe and stable as he drove his cock in and out desperately as the heat pooled in his stomach built up and finally broke, rushing through his body.

 

Feeling hidden away and safe under the shower’s spray, Bane let himself moan John’s name as he came, burying his seed deep inside John’s body for the second time that day with jittery, frantic thrusts. It took a long time for his body to work through his orgasm, pleasure bleeding out of him as he shook with its strength. John was still leaning fully against Bane, trusting him to hold him up as his head lolled, eyes closed as he continued to struggle for breath. Bane cradled him close for a few minutes as they both recovered, only letting go when John found stable footing and shakily stood up straight.

 

John was still panting as he laughed breathlessly, turning to stare at Bane for a few seconds. As always, Bane didn’t know what to say so he remained silent. Even when John covered his hands in soap suds and moved back into Bane’s personal space, Bane didn’t comment. He merely stood silently as slippery fingers moved over the muscles of his arms and chest, sensual and curious. He allowed John to explore where he pleased, only growling in warning when John began tracing the scar along his spine.

 

The detective’s fingers froze and retreated immediately, John giving him a sheepish look. “I can never tell where our boundaries are,” John admitted, dragging the blunt nails of his fingers teasingly down the length of Bane’s arms. John looked at him through his lashes, lips parted and wet. “What are we, Bane? This is the fifth time you’ve fucked me and now you’re in my shower, in my apartment.”

 

“If you did not want me here you should have closed the door,” Bane avoided the question, not knowing the answer. The fact that they were a ‘ _we_ ’ was concerning enough. What was he doing, fooling around with this detective? Why did he care about making John moan in pleasure rather than pain? Why did he hold John close to make sure he didn’t slip when he was trembling too violently to hold his own weight? Why did he let John rest his head against Bane’s shoulder as they fucked, and not even think twice about looking down to hold his gaze? Why did he want to taste John’s skin and feel John drag their lips together?

 

“Bane,” John huffed a sigh. Then he dragged a smile to his lips, nervous but reassuring. “I’m not one for labels but I think we need to agree on something. Otherwise I’m just going to end up doing or thinking something I shouldn’t.”

 

“There is no we,” Bane stated roughly, ignoring the painful clenching in his chest.

 

John’s smile wavered and fell. His lips were curved down into a disappointed frown for a few seconds, John’s eyes dropping to stare at the ground and avoid Bane’s eyes. When he finally lifted his head again, Bane could see that something had been walled off inside John. The detective gave him a look that was meant to be a smile but was closer to a grimace, his eyes dull. “Alright,” John nodded tightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing a noticeable giveaway even though Bane didn’t point it out. When the detective spoke again he had a better handle on his emotions, his voice brusque. “Well I need a shower so would you mind vacating?”

 

With no reason to argue, Bane nodded and stepped out of the shower. There was a soft matt under his feet, threads catching between his toes. He glanced back through the glass of the shower to watch John biting his lip and turning away. “Shall I leave?”

 

He didn’t specify but he knew John understood his question. “It doesn’t matter,” John told him. The rookie didn’t even turn around to face him again as he grabbed shampoo and began lathering it into his hair, as though Bane wasn’t even worth the time. “There are extra towels in the cupboard over the toilet. Try to not ruin my hardwood floors outside.”

 

Spurned but with no one to blame but himself, Bane found the extra towels and pulled two out. He watched John for a few minutes while he dried off, John not looking at him but not telling him to stop either. Then Bane finally grabbed his pile of clothes and stepped out into the hallway to dress. The shower was still on by the time he was dressed and Bane walked further into the apartment, looking around openly.

 

John didn’t have many pictures scattered around and seemed to want his apartment extremely tidy. There wasn’t much for Bane to look over except for the pile of books on the dining table, which was where Bane stood. He looked through the collection curiously, interested in seeing what the detective read in his free time and was surprised to find many repeats of books Bane had read and enjoyed in the past.

 

He looked up when he heard the bathroom door click open, the shower stopped. Bane watched as John walked across the living room silently, not even glancing over at Bane by the table. John was holding a towel tightly around his hips but the fabric was slipping, showing the hint of Bane’s fingerprints on pale skin. When John stepped into his bedroom he closed the door behind him, Bane no longer invited. But he also hadn’t told Bane to leave, so he remained at the table sifting through books.

 

It didn’t take long for John to dress and reappear, Bane seated on the worn couch in the room with one of the detective’s books. Bane glanced up when the door opened and John moved to sit on the coffee table in front of him, movements a little stiff as he sat down. “You’re still here,” John observed, eyes taking in the book Bane had chosen from the pile. Bane stared at John silently. John sighed and ran agitated fingers through his wet curls. “Why?”

 

“You didn’t tell me to leave,” Bane offered, though he knew it wasn’t the answer John was looking for.

 

As he expected, John rolled his eyes. “Spare me,” John tightened his grip on his hair for the briefest second before his fingers slid away, hands coming to rest on his thighs. “This isn’t your life. You don’t visit someone in their apartment for a shower fuck and then hang out on their couch reading one of their books afterward. You cripple cities and turn people on each other, making millions cower in fear of an explosive death they cannot predict or control.”

 

“You seem to think yourself an expert on me, Detective Blake,” Bane commented, light but warning.

 

“Hardly,” John refuted. “But I’m trying to understand. You have trapped the city’s cops underground and kill any you still find above ground. And yet you fuck me instead of breaking my neck.” John stood in a rush, wincing at his sudden movement but not commenting on it further as he began to pace. “I told myself you just liked my body because I could understand that. But then you follow me home and have the nerve to fucking _smile_ at me,” he didn’t even pause long enough for Bane to try arguing that; John already knew. “And then you fuck me in my shower, in my apartment and hold me close like you actually care that it’s _me_ against you instead of a random moaning body. Then you tell me it’s nothing, that there’s no _we_. So what is this?”

 

John paused and pinned Bane with his glare. Bane could read the hurt in his brown eyes, and the downward curl of his lips that John was trying to hide. “John...” Bane started but never finished, because he didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know what he was doing, other than being an idiot about a rookie cop who shouldn’t matter but _did_.

 

John closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in and out deeply. When he opened his eyes again, anger had joined the hurt, but so had understanding. “You don’t even know, do you?” Bane’s silence was answer enough. John shook his head in disbelief, smiling without humour. “Well consider yourself officially uninvited until you figure it out.” And with that John strode across the room and stepped out onto the balcony, not even bothering to make sure Bane left.

 

Despite being blatantly told to leave, Bane remained on the couch. He closed the book and set it on the coffee table silently, eyes focused on the detective through the windows. John had stepped up to the railing and leaned against it, head bowed heavily. It had been a long time since Bane felt remorse, and to feel it for John was frustratingly painful. A part of him reminded himself that he shouldn’t care, but he did and John didn’t deserve this.

 

Bane stood from the couch and picked up his coat from the table where he had left it, intent on leaving. It would be best for everyone if Bane just left. They could forget about each other, the touches and smiles, and continue on as enemies. It would be so much easier. But Bane made the mistake of casting one final glance at John before leaving, and he couldn’t help but notice the way his detective was trembling so violently in the cold.

 

Bane didn’t even hesitate as he stepped through the door onto the small balcony, coat slung over his arm. John glanced over at him but said nothing, arms wrapped around himself, skin pale, lips losing their colour. Not interested in an argument or waiting for John to protest, Bane closed the space between them and wrapped his coat around John’s shoulders. It was too big and the fabric weighed the detective down but immediately Bane could see John’s eyes soften as his shivering slowed.

 

He took a spot beside John, looking out over the railing at the city he had crippled. Out of the corner of his eye he watched John slip the coat on fully and pull it tight around himself, dwarfed but warm. They both watched the city in silence for a few minutes and then John leaned a bit of his weight against Bane’s side. “It’s not nothing, is it?” John asked quietly.

 

“No,” Bane admitted because he had a feeling that this wasn’t something he wanted to take the easy way out on; he wanted to fight for this. “It’s not nothing.”  In response, John released a relieved sigh and rested more of his weight against Bane who, in return, wrapped an arm around John’s waist and pulled him a little closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

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